Perfectly reasonable, legal and compliant.
Would the young lady not hear it?
The Fox Maiden calculated in her mind.
Watching Lenna’s thoughtful expression.
“Young master?” Lingling tentatively called.
She admitted there was an element of gambling.
But she seemed to have won…
“Hmm.” A soft snort escaped the gray-haired beauty’s nose.
“Young master!” The Fox Maiden clung to her leg, tail rubbing vigorously.
“Don’t call me ‘young master.’ Call me ‘young lady.’”
Lenna smiled faintly, a hint of helplessness in her eyes.
She truly couldn’t handle Lingling—as if repaying a debt from a past life, her tolerance kept stretching further and further.
Any other unknown maid would’ve been scolded to tears long ago.
“Call me that in private. Outside, you must still address me as ‘young lady.’”
Hand resting on the obedient head, Lenna whispered gently:
“And don’t follow someone’s example, stingy with even a single ‘master.’ Come, call her a few times to teach her a lesson.”
“You…! Pervert!”
Angela caught the sarcasm but had to endure it under the contract’s shackles.
She knew her situation was tough. From Lenna’s attitude, she’d gleaned useful clues—befriending Lingling might improve her circumstances…
Lenna clearly adored this golden Fox Maiden, showing none of the aristocratic arrogance typical of masters and servants.
This contradicted Lenna’s public reputation, making her seem more like a doting mother indulging a child’s mischief.
Could she exploit this?
One crucial condition mattered:
Lingling’s status in Lenna’s heart must be a steadfast shield, strong enough for her to hide behind and catch her breath.
So—
Angela took Lingling’s hand warmly. “My master assigned me two hours nightly to tutor you in music and dance, building a solid foundation for career advancement. In this role, shouldn’t you call me ‘teacher’?”
“Then… Teacher Angela.” Lingling chirped sweetly, shy like a first-day student.
“Good girl~” Angela ruffled her soft golden hair. “Actually, ‘Sister Angela’ is fine. I was joking—no need to be nervous.”
“Sister Angela is mean!”
After a few interactions, they became inseparable friends.
Same age, both girls—in this vast mansion, Lingling was the only young fox maid. Loneliness made her eagerly welcome Angela’s arrival.
“Uncle Bob is the butler, serving over twenty years. Aunt Mary is his wife, managing all household affairs. She’s head cook and head maid—every maid, including me, answers to Aunt Mary.”
Sunlight spilled silently down the stairs, rippling in golden rings across the bronze floor.
Lingling introduced enthusiastically while stealing glances at Lenna’s face.
Seeing no annoyance or displeasure, she relaxed.
But a familiar voice soon cut in:
“I won’t meddle in maid duties. The skeleton guard at the gate caught a runaway mouse. I’ll be back shortly.”
Lenna finished speaking, a gust of fragrant wind swirling as her gray hair fluttered—she vanished around the corner in a blink.
“Huh?” Angela blinked in confusion.
“A mouse?” Lingling’s face showed puzzlement.
Her fox tail swished uncertainly. “Do we… even have mice at home?”
......
Naturally, there were no mice.
But a lost ratman was another matter.
Escape was in sight, yet Camilla froze like a hiker facing a grizzly bear, praying for a miracle.
Panic made him gulp repeatedly, adrenaline surging. “Why are there necromantic constructs here?!”
*Creak?*
Bones grated unpleasantly. A fleshless skeleton guard advanced, blue flames flickering in its eye sockets.
Where it stepped, earth withered and plants decayed.
Camilla sensed this skeleton was at least third-tier!
Who uses skeletons as guards?!
And such a strong one?!
Camilla wanted to cry.
He’d been swaggering off to school—flirting, teasing, boasting—when his target showed up like magic, burning him alive with hellfire.
A family amulet blocked most damage, sparing him instant death.
Just as things calmed, some celebrity idol blasted him with holy light healing…
Damn it!
Didn’t she know holy and necromantic magic clash?!
That’s Magic Theory 101!
And who asked you to save me?! Stupid busybody!
Now even the amulet failed. Camilla died instantly, painfully.
“I don’t know why I’m alive again, but I refuse to die by this undead thing’s hand! Never!”
Camilla’s dream was drowning in a gentle big sister’s massive bosom clad in black stockings—not falling to a bony skeleton with no curves!
So move, damn it!!!
He roared inwardly, like Xiao Huohuo inheriting power from the Ring Elder, exploding past his limits to fight stronger foes.
Camilla’s will ignited. He focused, facing the most dangerous battle of his life.
As a second-tier Shadow Stalker, he could vanish into shadows, hiding his presence for surprise kills.
This was his edge against stronger foes.
His secret weapon among noble ladies.
*Awooo~*
The skeleton guard charged, blue fire spewing from its jaw like a glitchy robot—almost comical.
But Camilla dared not relax.
One slip meant death.
After all, this was a third-tier necromantic construct…
He wouldn’t dare touch it even with eight lifetimes of courage…
*Gulp—*
Dread brushed his nose. His clothes caught fire, the stench of burning flesh filling the air.
In that instant, Camilla’s mind went blank, crashing completely.
His last thought before shutdown:
Holy crap, skeletons can use magic too…?
......
Spirit Shatter.
A Spellbreaker’s innate skill, devastating against magic-wielders.
The ultimate counter, a mage-killer class.
Kevin was this skeleton’s name.
Or rather, the name Lenna gave him when he still had a soul.
A Spellbreaker who served the Falmore Family in life, now a mindless undead puppet revived by Necromancer Lenna.
Camilla’s loss wasn’t unfair.
Shadow Stalkers couldn’t beat Spellbreakers. No magic-user could—it was industry gospel.
“Wake up, hey…”
Footsteps approached.
“Dead already? I just revived you…”
Pacing, circling, she seemed to weigh solutions.
Finally—
*Cough cough cough…* “You’re crushing my lawn—one hundred gold coins per meter, Ghost Mist Forest premium grade, harvested by a sixth-tier gardening master with luck enchantment. You… ugh, ugly fat pig with not a shred of decent meat on you.”
